


Yearning Malice

by orphan_account



Series: FE3H Kink Meme Fills [2]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst and Porn, Black Eagles Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Bottom Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Dubious Consent, Hate Sex, Love/Hate, M/M, Porn, Prisoner of War, Restraints, Rough Sex, Top Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:55:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24129304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Years ago, Felix became a traitor to the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus as he sided with Edelgard. Now, he finds himself captured by Dimitri's forces, and is brought to the King himself. He's given the proposition to rejoin them.No matter what his answer may be, death is not in store for him, but rather desires that never truly left.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Series: FE3H Kink Meme Fills [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1738537
Comments: 16
Kudos: 102
Collections: FE3H Kink Meme





	Yearning Malice

**Author's Note:**

> I'm quite living for the fact that something a little dark is my first time writing for Dimilix. I had a lot of fun writing this and I'm rather happy with it! Please be sure to bear the tags in mind; I didn't include archive warnings as this is definitely not non-con, however there is some dub-con, and I'd rather those sensitive to these themes take care.
> 
> This is a fill for this request: 'Felix defects to the Black Eagles, but is captured by Dimitri’s soldiers and brought to him in chains. Dimitri offers Felix a chance to come back. (Whether he refuses or not is up to you.) They have hatesex, maybe while Felix is still chained-up, please???
> 
> Also like if Dimitri could slap Felix in the face at least once that would be delightful and I will sing your praises'
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

The world spins underneath a veil of darkness. Felix is unsure if he has slipped under full unconsciousness for a brief time, or if his injuries, how he’s disorientated from the blindfold over his eyes, bring him in and out of a daze.

He despises that vulnerability. The cuffs forcing his wrists behind his back more so, connecting them together by a chain. Despite how much his head throbs, how fatigue consumes him, he thrashes against his captors. Doesn’t matter if it’s fruitless. His pride isn’t strong enough to handle its fragments being shattered further.

“Let me go,” he spits. “There’s no reason to take me to _him._ Just kill me and get it over with.”

“His Majesty would like to speak to you.”

“Yeah, well, he can shove his words up his royal ass.” Felix tries to pull away once more. But there’s two men holding onto either of his arms. He has no weapon. The realisation of how helpless he is without one, when his body is this weakened from combat, has been weighing down further and further the more time passes.

The blindfold stops him from knowing where he is; he’s simply only been able to count passing hours as best as possible. Then it washes over him. A powerful presence, an aura he can recognise without sight. One that causes him to swallow.

He doesn’t like not being able to see that beast. It’s a relief when one of the soldiers rips the blindfold off his face. “We’ve brought the traitor, Felix Hugo Fraldarius, your Majesty.” In the time it takes Felix to blink, needing to adjust despite how the room is far from well-lit, the men take their leave.

“Hello, Felix. It’s been a while, should we exclude how our eyes met across the battlefield not long ago.”

The voice is the same as ever. Almost. Beneath it, there’s a sign of the beast Felix has always known, etched with a strange, near-gentleness; the combination is despicable, and Felix’s finally adjusted eyes glare up at Dimitri’s face.

“Can smell it even more up close,” says Felix. “How much murder drips off you.”

“You’ve murdered too, Felix. As you would, aligning yourself with that _monster.”_ Dimitri’s eye and voice alike darken as he spits that word. He exhales, as though trying to calm himself. “I want to know why you did it. Why did you betray us, Felix? Your home, your family, your friends?”

“It’s not any of your business why I chose that path.”

“Was it Glenn? How much you were compared to him, seen as the same, and so you wanted to flee from that?”

“Shut _up!”_ Felix’s bound hands clench into fists. “I’m not telling you, nor do I need _you_ of all people mocking me!”

“I’m not trying to. I want to know why you betrayed us … Betrayed me. The one who is supposed to be your king.”

“You’re not my king.”

“Is Edelgard your emperor?”

“No one is my anything.”

“It’s almost as though you’re running, in that case.” A pause. The eye that watches Felix almost _thoughtfully_ infuriates him; he cannot stand sympathy from anyone, let alone this man. But he forces himself to not look away. Doing that would be tantamount to surrender. His eyes might as well be covered again, should he fix his gaze on the ground like a frightened dog. “I asked this of you because I wish to understand. I want to grant you the offer of returning to us.”

This has to be a joke. Give Felix the opportunity of returning to the kingdom, despite how he betrayed it? When he doesn’t regret his decision?

No, it’s difficult to say if he does or not for certain. But if there is regret and guilt inside him, it’s tainted by the blood on his hands, emotions he forces himself to ignore; if he’s chosen the path that brings him against his friends, then that is what he must accept.

Never has he imagined this scenario. Either he stands with the empire as they take their victory, finds his death among them or is is captured. Captured, _without_ this option to live. To serve on their side.

It confuses him. Scares him, almost. Because he has no idea why he would be offered such a thing, and cannot imagine what he can offer in return other than his power.

“And you could trust me enough for me to return to you? I’m supposed to believe that?” Felix lets out a humourless laugh. “Spare me of that nonsense. You most likely want to use that as a way for me to be punished further.”

“I mean no such thing. I can simply sympathise with someone who felt as though he had no other choice.” Dimitri’s voice is calmer than Felix’s, which only infuriates the latter more. “Felix. I am genuine in this offer. And I believe you know that, although perhaps there’s a side of you that doesn’t want forgiveness. It wants to be punished. I understand that feeling.”

“You, boar, are in no shape to give me fucking therapy.” Felix brings himself up to full height—which, admittedly, is little in comparison to this towering king, although he finds confidence through the head held high and the gaze he pierces through Dimitri. “I can’t trust you. You can’t trust me.”

Dimitri inhales sharply. “I’m trying to be reasonable.” His tone is still quiet, although less soft. “I would, of course, have a close eye kept on you to ensure you would not spy on us for the empire. Even so, I mean it. And you still do not take my offer.”

It’s a statement, not a question, as though he is already certain of the answer. There’s a smirk without amusement tugging at Felix’s lips. Straightens up that little more, rising on his toes to bring his face right up to Dimitri’s.

“Guess I’ll be seeing you in hell, once you die as well.”

Dimitri is unfazed by Felix being close. It’s not unreasonable with how the glare on his face has no backing behind it; not when he’s had to bring himself down on the heels of his feet from the frustrating exhaustion in his legs.

A smile. The damned king _smiles,_ and dares to brush a thumb against Felix’s cheek. “I wasn’t planning on letting you die no matter what you choose. There’s other ways around this, how to get you back on our side, to behave for us.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Felix swings his head to the side, forcing Dimitri’s hand away. “Don’t touch me.”

“I must admit, it’s difficult not to. I’ve missed you throughout all this time you’ve been gone. You know how I feel about you.”

“That was years ago. Times change, although you don’t, as you’ve proven.” Felix has backed away. He’d hate himself for the show of weakness, but even he knows when it’s best to back down; that is the face of a predator, and Felix refuses to be a prey beneath that gaze. “As if I’d ever let those hands lay a finger on me. Dirty, blood-stained, no better than the ones that took our fami—”

 _Smack._ One of those very hands collides into Felix’s face. It takes him off guard, the force enough for him to lose his footing and fall onto the floor. He curls his head towards his chest to try to protect the back of it, hands unable to catch him.

He shudders at the slight taste of blood in his mouth. Again at the man who now stands near him, so he is laid on his side at Dimitri’s feet.

“You piece of shit,” Felix spits, trying to bring himself into a seated position at the very least.

“You always did have a mouth on you, Felix.” The angle of Dimitri’s head casts a shadow over his face. “There’s something … strangely satisfying, about seeing you on the floor. Helpless.”

“What are you—” His words stop at the foot that slides between his legs. Watches as Dimitri crouches in front of him. A hand to Felix’s face, holding onto his chin to lift his head. “Get off.” He tries to bring his head away from Dimitri’s grasp, but the grip is much too firm.

“I suppose it’s mesmerising, in its own way, to see such a proud swordsman be brought down this way.” His voice quietens. Almost threatening, almost sad; it’s impossible to pinpoint its peculiar emotions. “And I enjoy it, finding a way in which I can have you. I offered you to join our side again, Felix, because I want you there. I’d rather not have a future in this kingdom without you.”

“You don’t mean a word of that.”

“I do. And you know I do. There must be a part of you as well, craving for those simpler times, where we can be together again. I’ll bring them back to us. And I want you on that journey.”

“I’ve already said I’m not joining you.”

“I know. And a shame it is. But there’s other ways to put you to use, dear Felix.” The hand on Felix’s chin brings him closer, Dimitri leaning in, their lips meeting.

Felix can only blink as he adjusts to the sensation. Once his mind catches up to him, he tries to back away, but the growl against his lips freezes him. The hand on his chin reaches for his messed-up ponytail instead. Grasping it, keeping his head in place as a tongue slips into his mouth. Felix cannot help it. That and the knee that’s pressing between his legs forces a muffled moan out of him. Tightly shut eyes, mind screaming at him to back away from the kiss, although his body is almost melting underneath it.

He realises, with a hatred for both of them, that he too has missed it.

It had been fleeting. A brief period in their lives, before the world turned upside down. So, _so_ much different to the force of Dimitri’s lips, the hand that grasps his hair so tightly his scalp burns, the other that has reached down to the side of Felix’s hip to squeeze roughly. But still the same in the sense of desire.

Enough to make him breathless as Dimitri parts from his lips. Not enough air to speak. His ponytail brings his head back, granting Dimitri access to his neck; his outerwear managed to leave him during his capture, Dimitri only having to tug the turtleneck’s collar down with his teeth to reach it. Lips press at the side of his neck. Deep, wanting, as rough as the man himself. Felix bites his bottom lip. “You can’t just—” He inhales sharply, trying to stop a gasp at the teeth that bite at his skin. “Sh-shit—”

“We’ll see how long you can remain stubborn for, Felix.” A tongue laps over the mark left behind. Hands on either of Felix’s hips force him closer. Dimitri’s knee pushes against his crotch, and Felix curses himself over the slightest whimper. “I’m disappointed in you for not accepting my offer. Perhaps once I’ve done this to you, you’ll be a lot more compliant.”

“You’re insane.”

“Am I? I can feel how you’re reacting to this.”

That knee presses closer. It must be able to feel the bulge beginning to form in his trousers. Felix’s eyes avert away, trying and failing to find a comeback; it’d be baseless lies to say there’s not a dark side to him that’s enjoying this. He’s never said to anyone he is normal. Never tried to deny the appeal in being taken over this way.

Dimitri’s mouth continues to work at his neck. Folding down the collar so he can reach the base of his throat. His hands are wandering. Over the curve of Felix’s waist, beneath the bound hands to his rear. Lift and collide with a harsh _slap._

“ _Fuck—”_

“I’m sorry if I hurt you, Felix. There’s a lot of pent-up anger I have towards you. Mingled with all this desire, I’m afraid to become like the beast you say.”

“Become? _Become?”_ Those hands squeeze at his ass, nails digging through the material of his trousers, and it takes all he has to not do something as pathetic as _moan._ “You’re already there, boar. Never been anything more than a beast.”

Those nails dig in further. Mouth at Felix’s bare shoulder instead, biting down hard enough for him to yelp. “I shouldn’t enjoy that sound. I wonder what else can come from that mouth of yours?”

Dimitri straightens up. A hand on Felix’s face forces their eyes to meet. “And that face … My, Felix. How are you so beautiful? Blushing this way … Regardless of the rage I have towards you, I cannot deny how enchanting you are.” Dimitri leans in, pressing a kiss beneath Felix’s ear. The breath against it causes him to shudder. “I must hear more from you. If I cannot have you accept my offer, you’ll accept me being inside you at the very least.”

There’s the words. Felix expected them sooner or later. The hunger that radiates off that man is different to that of bloodlust. It’s just as intense, as chilling, but the passion behind it is different. Dimitri’s hands linger over Felix’s hips. It’s almost as though he’s waiting for an answer.

Felix knows he should say no. He cannot imagine Dimitri, even with their shared hatred, taking advantage of him as he begs for him not to; there’s a fine line between love and hate, after all. But he says nothing at all. Merely allowing himself to fall victim to the lips that find his once more. Ashamed by the whimper captured by Dimitri’s tongue, over the palm that presses against the bulge in his trousers. He pushes himself involuntarily against that hand. It squeezes, and this time, Dimitri backs from the kiss to allow the moan from Felix to enter the air instead.

“You bastard,” Felix mutters, eyes cast anywhere but Dimitri as his shame deepens from that sound. These eyes blink when a hand on his arm brings him up to his feet. He’s disorientated for a moment, arousal weakening him that little further. Too perplexed for a moment to acknowledge how Dimitri has turned him around to start unlocking his cuffs. “What, you’re untying me? Thought a freak like you would keep me in them.”

“If I am a freak for enjoying you in them, then you’re just as much of one for enjoying it to this degree.” Felix is brought back around. He whines, _pitifully_ whines, at the hand that fingers that slide over the crevice between his ass cheeks through his trousers. “My, yes. Despite how much you hate me, you’re enjoying every moment of being at my mercy, aren’t you?”

“Shut … shut _up.”_ He attempts to pull his hands away as those cuffs are refastened at his front instead. He’s not sure if he’s properly trying or if it’s merely for show. Certainly, each worthless struggle sends shocks straight to his erection, and he’s biting his lip from arousal when his wrists are bound again and Dimitri leans in close to him.

Close enough to kiss the top of his ear, and say into it, “Already becoming undone. Let’s see how far that can go.”

Dimitri holds Felix’s cuffed wrists in one hand as his other reaches for a stool nearby. The latter struggles, but again, questions the effort of it, if there’s a true will for escape. He watches in confusion as Dimitri steps onto the stool. His reasoning becomes clearer when Felix’s wrists are pulled above his head.

“H-hey—let go!”

He’s not sure why suspended arms frightens him more than them being bound behind his back. Perhaps it’s the vulnerability, how he cannot stop Dimitri viewing himself at all angles. Perhaps it’s far simpler. For when Dimitri wraps a chain around that between the metal cuffs, brought up more to hang from the ceiling, Felix finds himself squirming from arousal above all else.

“This is a good look for you, Felix.” The latter’s eyes close at the hand that trails over his backside. A cross between a cry and a moan as it spanks him. “And it sounds as though you think so, too.”

Dimitri does not rush, for now. He walks around to stand in front of Felix. The latter wills one eye open. It shuts tightly again when a hand slaps him once more; across his face this time, although with noticeably less force than earlier. Felix bites his lip, chin lowered down against his chest.

“If you’re going to fuck me, then just do it,” he says as he tugs at his cuffs. “Don’t fool around.”

“You want it that desperately? I do too, I must admit. I simply want to see how deeply you’re aroused.” Felix wriggles as Dimitri’s hands reach for the button of his trousers. Unfastens them, tugging down the zip; a desperate, choked moan as Dimitri grasps at Felix’s erection through the trousers. “Goddess, that is a beautiful sound.”

“Sh-shut … _up.”_ Another squeeze, another moan. “F-fuck, I hate you.”

“And I hate you too, for all you have done.” Dimitri takes the waistband of Felix’s trousers and underwear. “But I still love you. Deeply. Which is why as I put you in your place, I do it with nothing but good intentions.”

He folds the garments down above Felix’s boots. The latter’s head turns away now he’s bare, feeling his resiliency crumble underneath this shame; he breathes out, shaky and overwhelmed, over the hand that strokes up his length as Dimitri’s mouth sucks and bites at his shoulder.

So many marks must be prominent against that porcelain skin. He cannot say he hates the image.

Dimitri scoops up something from behind Felix. Steps take the king back to his prisoner from behind, a hand running over the curve of Felix’s rear. The latter hates the natural response of pushing himself back against it. He’s rewarded with a squeeze, and he shudders with pursed lips. The hand continues up to fold his turtleneck over his waist. A _pop_ resounds from something in his other hand.

“Your body is wonderful, Felix. Almost as though it’s designed to be used by your king.” Though Dimitri laughs as though telling a joke, it’s without humour; it’s clear that he means every one of those words.

“It’s not yours.”

“But it is, love. All of you belongs to me, now.” Felix gasps out as something slick and wet presses against his entrance. Dimitri’s finger, prepared in oil. “Isn’t that right?”

Though Felix shakes his head, he cannot prevent a moan from that finger pushing down on the external muscle. Preparing him for what is to enter. “Sh-shit, I— _ah!”_

The finger slips inside. Surprisingly gentle for a man with such brute strength. It works inside him as Felix’s body adjusts, the latter’s gasps replaced with quiet moans as it ventures inside further. A cry when it’s smooth enough to pick up the pace.

“Oh, Felix.” A kiss is placed on the back of his shoulder. “Let me hear you.”

“Fuck y-yo— _oh, Goddess_.” Dimitri shouldn’t be able to find the spot that makes him moan so pitifully. He resents the sound, how desperate it is, how his voice goes that little higher when Dimitri picks up the pace. Hates how much he adores it most of all.

Dimitri’s other hand trails over Felix’s hip, up to his torso and over his chest. Fingertips trail over his nipples. He whimpers, again a shameful sound, and he tries to bring himself to give some sort of witty remark. Those fingers pinching bring out a mewl instead. “A-ah—”

“Who knew the strong Felix Hugo Fraldarius could be so sensitive?” The finger in his rear increases in strength in correlation to the squeezing of his nipples. He wriggles against his bonds with a moan. “It’s adorable … Why you cannot let this side of you show more, I have no idea.”

“I hate you,” Felix says, barely above a whisper; he curses the overwhelmed tears in his eyes. “I hate you so much.”

“Do you, Felix? Do you truly mean those words? Because I am not sure if I mean it myself, when I say I hate you in return.”

He’s not certain himself. These feelings in his heart are too confusing and painful to properly judge, comprehend; he buries them away and forgets them instead. Or at least, that is what he usually does. It’s far more difficult with pleasure coursing through him. Pleasure from _Dimitri,_ of all who could grant him these sensations.

“N-no,” he nearly _whines_ as that finger leaves him. Body squirming, needing Dimitri’s hands back. It turns out it’s for Dimitri to prepare a second finger. Felix is soon moaning again when they’re forced inside him. “Hah, o-oh fuck, you—”

“Does it feel good, Felix? Do you enjoy your king doing this to you?”

He shakes his head, not meaning it in the slightest. Dimitri is fully aware. He drives his fingers in and out of his captured swordsman, scissoring against his prostrate in a way that leaves Felix whimpering. His legs tremble beneath the pleasure. Almost grateful for the cuffs that keep him in place and how his hole is wrapped around those large fingers, for he’s certain he’d collapse beneath his weight otherwise.

Dimitri’s other hand explores again. Trailing over Felix’s throat, which swallows over the electrifying touch; up to his mouth. Curious fingers slipping between his lips. Felix burns with humiliation by the tongue he instinctively laps over them. “Oh, Felix.” Dimitri’s voice is soft, yet the thrust of his fingers inside Felix’s ass increases in intensity; Felix moans against those wrapped by his tongue. “One of these days, I must find further use of this mouth. You can be a good pet for me.”

Felix inhales sharply once his mouth is free. “I’m not … _ah,_ n-not your damn pet.”

“It’s a compromise for your death, and refusal for my offer. I could have had you tortured instead.”

Felix would argue that this is torture, but that is simply not the case. The most torturous thing of all is when Dimitri’s fingers leave him once more. Felix’s eyes are half-lidded from arousal. Gasps and soft whimpers so unlike him.

Or perhaps they _are_ in his nature; perhaps this is what he’s been desiring all along.

When Dimitri has taken a moment to prepare himself, the large, lubed head pressing between Felix’s ass cheeks, he’s pathetic enough to say, “Please.”

“Please? Are you asking me to let you go?”

“Fuck off, you know I don’t …” Felix inhales deeply, a tear trickling down from his eye from shame. “Fuck me, you boar. Now.”

He hisses at a slap against his ass. “Remember your manners.” Dimitri dares to sound amused. _Amused._ Felix goes to call him out on that, but is left rendered useless when Dimitri’s cock slips inside him.

“ _A-ah—”_ His moan is choked, desperate, body squirming helplessly against the thrusts into him. “Shit, I-I … hah, oh—”

He wants to sound coherent. Only these broken moans leave him. Dimitri’s length, long enough to break Felix if he tried to, sends his head into another place entirely; the pain and pleasure of it hitting against his prostrate leaves his entire body trembling.

More, how can it want more, when it’s already getting everything?

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” says Dimitri’s voice against Felix’s ear. “I could never kill you, Felix, no matter … no matter how much I despise you for betraying me.”

 _It’d have been so much easier for you to kill me,_ Felix thinks to himself when his weak throat fails to say it. So much easier than having to deal with these confusing emotions. How intoxicating it is for this man to dominate him, have every means to take him; how arousing it is for Felix to let him.

He hates it all. Damn it, he hates it so much that tears fall from his eyes, but he knows that those tears are also from how much he has missed this man’s voice, from the love that mingles in with the hatred.

“D-don’t stop,” he ends up whispering. The kiss at the back of his neck is strangely gentle, even as these thrusts will likely render Felix unable to walk after this.

Everything catches up to him. The fatigue from today, every last emotion he has felt, and he finds himself too exhausted to attempt to hold back those whimpers and moans. He still cares. He’s still humiliated. But not enough to force himself to be quiet, to stop his bound fists loosening as he accepts what is happening to him. Push aside how deeply he knows he wants it to happen.

All the words pass him by in a blur of pleasure and tears. He finds his release before Dimitri through the hand on his erection, a cry escaping his lips, panting as Dimitri continues to thrust into him. The latter too reaches his own inside Felix. A moan from being filled, darkened vision from exhaustion, eyes closed whilst Dimitri pulls out.

Sounds are distant. He can feel Dimitri reach for the chains above his head. The darkness closes in completely, consciousness fading; he’s able to comprehend one final action, and that is being caught in strong arms as he falls.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Find me on Twitter here: https://twitter.com/nikobynight  
> And the FE3H kink meme here: https://3houseskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/


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